


My Heart is a Weapon of War

by LibraryMage



Series: Break Your Chains [23]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Character, Autistic Ezra Bridger, Autistic Sabine Wren, Brother-Sister Relationships, Episode: s03e15 Trials of the Darksaber, Father-Daughter Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 12:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13998123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: Taking the darksaber from the Death Watch base had been an impulse, but now that the rest of the crew knows what it means, Sabine wishes she'd left it behind.





	1. Chapter 1

As Sabine knocked on the door, she thought she heard something on the other side, but she couldn’t be sure.  She knocked again and the door slid open.  Kanan was sitting on the floor beside his bunk.  Sabine felt a quiet twitch of guilt as she realized he must have been meditating.  She tried to tell herself she wasn’t looking for an excuse to leave, but she didn’t sound too convincing, even in her own head.

“Is something wrong?” Kanan asked.

“Nothing,” Sabine said, almost automatically.  “I just wanted to give you something.  I thought you should have it.”

She crossed the room and held out the object in her hand, placing it in his, and quickly turned to leave again.

“Wait,” Kanan said.  For a second, Sabine considered pretending she hadn’t heard, but that might mean she’d end up having to explain _why_ she wouldn’t have heard.  Instead, she turned back around to face Kanan.  He said something else, but his voice was too quiet this time, and he was looking down, as if he could see the object in his hand.

“Huh?” she asked.

“Is this what I think it is?” he asked, raising his voice slightly and turning his face back toward her.

“It’s a lightsaber,” she said.

“Where did you --”

“I found it,” she said.  “When we…” she let the sentence trail off, knowing she didn’t need to finish it.

“Anyway, it’s a Jedi artifact,” she said.  “So I thought you should have it.”

She turned and left the room before Kanan could ask her any more questions.  As the door closed behind her, she felt like a weight had been lifted out of her hands as she left that thing behind.

* * *

 

The next few days seemed normal on the surface, but Sabine could feel a growing tension in the ship.  She’d thought that giving Kanan the darksaber would be the end of it and she’d never have to deal with it again, but now she felt like she the specter of it was haunting her.  Maybe she should have kept it, if only because she could have kept it hidden and no one would know she had it.

She’d pretended not to notice when Fenn Rau came to talk to Kanan behind a closed door, but in the days since, she would hear bits of whispered conversations that stopped when she entered a room.  She tried to distract herself by throwing herself into art, repainting the walls of her room.  It worked for a while, but as soon as her new mural, her family -- her _real_ family -- smiling, happy, with no troubles hanging over their heads, was finished, everything came crashing down over her again.

Finally, the day came when she heard Chopper outside her door, asking to come in.  As if he knew how she felt -- and maybe he did; Sabine knew that droids who were never memory-wiped could achieve something close to sentience, and Chopper had known her for years so he could probably recognize her moods by now -- he was unusually nice when he told her the others were waiting for her in the common space.

Sabine slid down from her bunk, steeling herself for what she knew was about to happen.  As she walked to the common space, she repeated in her head the words she planned to say.  As she entered the room, everyone’s faces turned toward her.

“I won't do it,” she said, crossing her arms and staring down at the floor.

“So you do know what the darksaber is,” Rau said.

“I know it caused my family nothing but trouble after Maul took it,” Sabine said.  That lightsaber represented everything that had thrown her home into chaos, destroying a peace that was barely being held together, and that her own family had helped dismantle.  Now they expected her to take up the weapon, go back to Mandalore, and use it to rally her people to their cause, and not a single one of them understood why she couldn’t do it.

“Maul used it to divide and conquer our people,” Rau said.  “You can wield it to do the opposite.”

“No,” Sabine said.  “I can't.  I _won't_.”

She turned to leave, wanting that to just be the end of it, but she was stopped by the sound of Kanan’s voice.

“Sabine,” he said.  “Consider what he has to say.  I don’t think it’s a coincidence this saber came into your possession.”

“No,” Sabine said, “it’s not a coincidence.  It happened because Maul took us all hostage so he could get Ezra back, but that doesn’t mean I was meant to have it.”

“But you _do_ have it now,” Kanan said.  “And he’s right.  Rau told me what the darksaber means to your people.  You can use it to rally the other clans, and yours.”

“Yeah, but Kanan,” Ezra said, “having the saber doesn’t mean she can fight with it.”

“Go on,” Sabine said, shooting him a glare.  Of all the times for him to completely miss the point…still, maybe he could get her out of this.

“I mean, it’s taken Kanan and me years to get as good as we are,” Ezra said, shifting nervously and averting his gaze from her.  “And we use the Force.”

“She might not be able to fight like a Jedi,” Kanan said, “but she can learn to be proficient with the blade.”

“I _am_ proficient with many types of blades and blasters and explosives,” Sabine said, “but that is a lightsaber.”

“The combat training is not as important as what that blade represents,” Rau said.

Sabine could have laughed if they were talking about anything else.  What the darksaber represented was the whole problem in the first place.

“Right,” she said.  “You want me to lead my clan.  I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m not that popular with my family these days.”

“That can change,” Rau said.

“No, it can’t,” Sabine said.  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.  My family doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I know that family is important to the Wrens,” Rau said, putting a hand on her shoulder.  “Just like it is to all Mandalorians.”

Sabine pushed him away, furious at him for trying to bring the importance of family into this.  Her family had made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t one of them anymore.  Family was supposed to be important, but apparently hers cared so little about her that they'd thrown away one of the things they valued the most.

“I have a family,” she said.  “Here, on this ship.  I don’t need them.”

“But we do,” Hera said.  Sabine looked over at her, feeling like she’d been punched in the gut.  Out of all of them, Hera was the one she’d thought she could count on to be on her side.

“If there’s a chance that you can rally an army of Mandalorian warriors to our cause, I have to ask you to do it,” Hera said.

“Hera,” Sabine said, staring desperately at her, practically begging her to back down, but unable to actually say it.

“I know family history can be painful,” Hera said, “but we can use those warriors for our attack on Lothal.”

“You _don’t_ know,” Sabine said.

“Sabine,” Kanan said.  “Hera’s right.  We need to ask you to do this, but that doesn’t mean you have to.  You can walk away and forget about it.”

Sabine looked around the room, at the faces of her family; her _real_ family.  She wanted to do anything she could to protect them, just like she always had, and just like they had always done for her, but what they were asking her to do was beyond flying dangerous recon missions or fighting off stormtroopers.  At least the danger she faced on missions made sense and any pain it caused her was temporary.  Her family wasn't nearly as straightforward.

But Hera and Kanan were asking her to do this.  Hera and Kanan.  They’d always stood by her, even in her first few months on the crew when she didn’t trust them at all.  They wouldn’t ask her to do this if they didn’t really think it was necessary, would they?  And neither of them would ever say it, but didn’t she owe them after everything they’d done for her?

“Alright,” she said.  “I’ll do it.  Just give me the saber.”

“Once people know you have it, you will be challenged,” Kanan said.  “You need to be able to defend yourself.”

“I’ll try my best,” Sabine said.

“First lesson, don’t try,” Ezra said.  “Just learn.”

“How about I learn how to kick your --”

“Sabine,” Kanan said, sternly cutting her off.

“Okay,” she muttered.  She held out her hand, closing it around the saber’s hilt.  Kanan held onto it for a second longer, like he was testing to see if she was sure.  As he let go, the saber suddenly felt heavy in her hand, and she wondered if she’d just made a huge mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for: parental-figure/child conflict; references to past child abuse

Just moments after Sabine had helped Ezra unload the last of the supplies they’d brought to the spot out in the desert where they’d set up camp, Kanan gently tossed something to her that landed with a dull _thunk_ on the ground at her feet.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Training saber,” Kanan said.

“Really?”

“Before we start with the real thing, I want to see your technique,” Kanan said.

“I already know how to fight with a stick,” Sabine said, even as she stood up anyway, picking up the training saber.

“Then this should be easy for you,” Kanan said.

Sabine raised the saber and lunged at Kanan, who blocked her attack easily and stepped to one side, letting Sabine’s own momentum carry her past him.  Sabine caught her balance and pivoted, aiming a heavy downward strike at Kanan’s shoulder.  Kanan blocked her again, returning the blow and hitting the side of Sabine’s chest.  Sabine stabbed toward Kanan’s shoulder and changed direction at the last second to strike at his knee and knock him off balance.  He deflected the blow without missing a beat.

“That might work on a stormtrooper,” he said, “but not on me.”

Kanan quickly thrust his saber forward, twisting it to the side and wrenching Sabine’s weapon out of her hand.

“I can do better than that,” Sabine said.

“I know,” Kanan said.  “You just need some more practice.”

He turned his attention to Ezra, who was seated beside one of the tents they’d pitched, watching them.

“Ezra, take her through the basic forms,” he said.  He tossed the training saber to Ezra, who almost missed catching it as he stood up hesitantly.

“Me?” he asked, seeming confused.

“You’ll do fine,” Kanan said.

Ezra still didn’t seem sure as he walked over to her, the training saber held loosely in his hand.  Sabine gave a weak smile, trying not to let Ezra see that it stung a little that Kanan was handing her off to her kid brother.

“I thought you did good,” Ezra said.  “I’m sure Kanan thinks so, too.”

“Thanks,” Sabine said flatly, not convinced.  “Just show me what to do.  The sooner I get a handle on this, the sooner…I don’t know.”

Sabine tried to alleviate her frustration as she followed Ezra’s lead through the lightsaber forms he was trying to show her.  The basics were important no matter how experienced she was, she reminded herself, and Kanan probably just wanted to remind Ezra of the same thing or give him something to make him feel useful.  It didn’t have to mean that he thought she wasn’t ready or wasn’t good enough.

* * *

 

“You’re enjoying this,” Sabine said, glaring up at Ezra from where he’d just knocked her to the ground, his training saber held just inches from her chest.

“A little,” Ezra said.  He held out a hand to help her up.  Sabine stood up on her own, pushing his hand away with a little too much force.

In the two days since they’d come out here, Ezra had been walking her though forms until Kanan finally decided she was ready to spar.  And she’d thought she _was_ ready, but Ezra had still beaten her three times now.  No matter how much she kept telling herself that he had more experience with a lightsaber than she did and that taking things slow was normal when you learned to handle a new weapon, her frustration kept flaring up.  It wasn’t just that she wanted to be doing better.  She resented the fact that she had to do this at all.  She’d said she would face her old family to protect her new one, but she didn’t for a second actually want to do that, and every moment she spent training was just another moment she was reminded of what she was preparing to do.

“You overcommitted,” Rau said.

“Oh, good,” Sabine said.  “Anyone else have an opinion they want to share?”

“Let’s take a break,” Kanan said quickly, taking a step forward as if he was afraid he’d have to physically get between Sabine and someone else.

Sabine threw her saber to the ground hard enough that it bounced off before settling into the sand.

“Ezra,” Kanan said, gesturing to Rau’s speeder bike.  “Help unload these supplies.”

“I won,” Ezra said.  “Shouldn’t I get the break?”

Kanan didn’t even need to remove his mask for both of them to see the glare of _just do it_ that Kanan gave Ezra, but Sabine was too annoyed to be amused by it.  As Ezra walked away, Rau approached Sabine, a small box held in his hands.

“I brought you something,” he said.  “Since you’re partially in this mess on my recommendation.”

“Partially?” she repeated.  “How about completely?”

“To make up for that, you can have these,” Rau said, reaching into the box.  Sabine’s eyes widened slightly, her frustration and annoyance at the day’s events momentarily gone, as she saw what he was holding.

“Mandalorian vambraces?” she asked, taking them from his hands.  “Where did you get these?”

“Try them on,” he said, artfully dodging the question.

Sabine slid them onto her wrists, the metal fitting snuggly around her arms, but not too tight.  Somehow, Rau had found them in nearly the perfect size or modified them, which meant he’d probably put some effort into it.

“Grappling line, paralyzing darts, repulsor,” Rau said.  “All designed to combat the abilities of the Jedi.”

Sabine smiled as she examined the new weapons around her wrists.

“Go take Bridger down a peg or two,” Rau said with a smile.

“Oh, I’ll take him down more than a peg,” Sabine said.  She stooped to pick up the training saber and walked over to Ezra with a broad smile on her face.

Seeing her expression, Ezra’s gaze was drawn toward the vambraces.

“What have you got there?” he asked.

“More than you can handle,” Sabine said.

“Maybe I won't go so easy on you this time,” Ezra said.

Sabine shifted her stance, preparing to attack.  Ezra had no idea what he was in for.

As Ezra raised his training saber, Sabine stood her ground, waiting for him to strike first.  As he did, she deflected his first blow only to be forced to step back to dodge his slash at her side.  As he drove her backward, she held out one hand, activating the sonic weapon on her left vambrace, sending Ezra flying backwards.  As he struggled to regain his balance, Sabine rushed him, slashing her saber across his stomach in a move that would have gutted him if it was a real blade, dodging to the side and coming up behind him, smacking him in the center of his spine and sending him falling to the ground.  As Ezra sat up, Sabine brought the point of her saber up next to his neck.

“And that’s your head,” she said with a smile.

“Hey!” Kanan called as he walked over toward them.  “Is this a game for you?”

“No game,” Sabine said.  “Just outsmarting my opponent.  Want to take a shot?”

She activated the grappling line, flicking her wrist so it sailed through the air toward Kanan, snaking around his chest.  Clearly unimpressed, Kanan ignited his lightsaber, slashing the cable away, grabbing hold of it, and pulling, dragging Sabine toward him and knocking her off her feet.  As she sat up, she was met with Kanan’s blade held right in front of her chest.  She glared up at him, knowing he could probably feel it even if he couldn’t see it.  She wasn’t scared.  Her armor would protect her from the lightsaber if it got too close.

“History lesson,” Kanan said.  “The Jedi won the war with Mandalore.  These tricks will amount to something, but they won't keep you alive in the long run.  Only training and discipline will do that.”

As Kanan switched off his lightsaber and stepped back, Sabine heard a quiet whimper float to her through the air.  Her eyes followed the sound until she saw Ezra, standing perfectly still, his eyes wide as he stared at them.

Sabine stood up, furiously brushing away sand that clung to her armor.

“The only thing I’m learning is that Ezra must be really gifted to learn as well as he has from a lousy teacher like you,” she said.  “Or maybe you really _can't_ take credit for him.”

She stormed away from the campsite, too furious to notice whether or not any of the others called after her.

* * *

 

Ezra felt like his head was full of static.  All he could see was Sabine being knocked to the ground, the lightsaber too close to her chest.  He could feel Sabine’s anger and Kanan’s frustration pouring into the air around them.  As he stood frozen, Sabine got to her feet and Ezra was vaguely aware of her shouting something before she walked away.

A heavy silence fell over the campsite as the echoes of Sabine’s anger settled around them like disturbed dust falling back to the ground.  Slowly, the static cleared from Ezra’s mind and he was suddenly aware that he was standing still, ever muscle in his body tensed up.  As he remembered how to move again, he took a few halting steps forward, intending to go after Sabine, only for Kanan to throw out a hand to stop him.

“Let her go,” Kanan said.  “She just needs some time.”

As soon as Kanan’s hand touched him, Ezra flinched back, feeling like every nerve in his body was on high alert, waiting for something.

“Ezra,” Kanan said, a worried look crossing his face as he realized what had happened.  “I didn’t --”

Ezra pushed past him and ran.  He barely realized where he was going until he felt that familiar, overpowering anger and confusion that signaled Sabine’s presence and he stopped in his tracks.

“Not now, Ezra,” Sabine said.

“Sorry,” Ezra muttered.  “I wasn’t --”  He turned to walk away, then stopped again.  “Look, I know Kanan’s not the easiest teacher to have, but he means well.”

“Does he?” Sabine asked.  “Do any of them?”

She sank down onto the rock she was standing in front of and tangled a hand in her hair.

“I know how to fight,” she said.  “I believe I can learn to use that sword.  I just don’t want everything that comes with it.”

“You mean your family?” Ezra asked.

“I promised Kanan and Hera I would do this because it’s good for the rebellion,” Sabine said, staring down at the ground.  “But I don’t _want_ it.  I don’t want to go back, Ezra.  I -- I’m scared.”

Her voice cracked as she said it and Ezra felt a rush of guilt as he realized that her hands were beginning to shake.  He knew how it felt to be terrified of someone you once thought of as family, and he knew how it felt to be forced to do it anyway.

“Sabine,” he said, “we’ll be with you when you go back.  And if anything happens, I’ll be there to protect you.  And so will Kanan.”

“It’s not like that,” Sabine said.  “I don’t need protecting.”

“It’s just, what you told me before about your mom --”

“It was different,” Sabine said.  “She didn’t do anything to me like what Maul did to you, she just --”

Sabine kicked furiously at a rock at her feet.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said.  “This whole thing was pointless.  I can't --”

She abruptly stood up and walked away, wandering out even farther into the desert.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for: references to past child abuse; parental-figure/child conflict

_“Teaching Ezra wasn’t easy, but you did it well,”_ Hera said, her voice slightly distorted by the transmitter.  _“I’m sure you’ll find a way to get through to Sabine.”_

“It’s not the same,” Kanan said.  “Ezra was eager to learn.  Sometimes too eager.  And I got to him later.  He already knew what it took to handle a lightsaber, even if he was…”

_“Using it to try and kill you a few times?”_ Hera said.  She sighed.  _“Sabine’s got plenty of experience, too.”_

“I know,” Kanan said.  “In some ways, she’s a more capable warrior than Ezra, but she can’t find balance within herself.  Or she won't.  And until she does, wielding an actual lightsaber is too dangerous for her.”

_“By letting her pretend with that stick, you’re only encouraging her not to commit to this,”_ Hera said.

“You’re not listening to me,” Kanan said, trying to reign in his frustration.  He’d already made Sabine angry and scared Ezra.  The last thing he wanted to do was hurt someone else over this.  “If I let her use the darksaber, she will get hurt.”

_“She’s already hurt!”_ Hera said, the frustration in her voice matching his own.  _“Her family hurt her more than any sword could.  You don’t see it because she doesn’t want you to.”_

“But you can?”

_“Because I know what it’s like when the people you love don’t believe in you,”_ Hera said.  _“Remember how hard it was for her to trust us.”_

“So what do you want me to do?” Kanan asked.

_“Give her the sword,”_ Hera said.  _“Let her own it, and who she is.  Help Sabine face her demons, just like you did with Ezra.”_

“I don’t know,” Kanan said.

_“I know you don’t,”_ Hera said.  _“But this isn’t about you.”_

In the back of his mind, Kanan could feel Ezra approaching and a spike of guilt shot through his chest.

“I have to go,” he said.

_“You know what you need to do, Kanan,”_ Hera said.

“Yeah,” Kanan said.  “I do.”

He ended the transmission and steeled himself, preparing for the next in a series of difficult conversations.  Ezra was trying to go unnoticed as he snuck back to the campsite, but Kanan found him easily.

“Ezra,” he said.  Ezra’s footsteps stopped abruptly.  Even without being able to see him, Kanan could easily picture his shoulders tensed up, his eyes locked on the ground in front of him.

“I’m sorry I ran off,” Ezra said.

“It’s okay,” Kanan said.  “I’m the one who should be apologizing.  To both of you.”

A stiff, awkward silence fell between them for a moment before Kanan spoke again.

“You know I’d never hurt either of you, right?” he said.

“I know,” Ezra said.  “I know that, but…I guess part of me still doesn’t.”

Kanan could feel a sense of uncertainty and fear that Ezra was trying to keep hidden from him.  Even with his mental shields, it was impossible for him to block their bond completely.

“What is it?” Kanan asked.

“I think you’re being hard on Sabine,” Ezra said, the words coming out quickly and the end of the sentence cutting off like he was afraid to keep talking.

“I know,” Kanan said.  “And I’m sorry it caused all of this.  Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Ezra said.  “It was just, you were both so angry and it…I don’t know what happened.”

“I’m sorry, Ezra,” Kanan said again.  “I wasn’t thinking about how it might affect you.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Ezra said.  “I talked to Sabine and she -- we’ve made it this far with the soldiers we have.  Why do we need Sabine’s clan?”

“If Sabine tells me she’s changed her mind, we’ll stop,” Kanan said.  “But she’ll never forgive either of us if we decide to end this because we think it’s what she wants.”

“You would never make me go back and ask Maul for help,” Ezra said.

“I’m not making her do anything,” Kanan said.  “If she wants to back out, she can.  And it’s not the same.  Sabine might not want to fix things with her family, and she doesn't have to, but she still has a chance to get them to help us.  We need all the allies we can get.”

He sighed heavily before he kept talking.

“Besides,” he said.  “You _did_ have to go back and work with Maul to save the others.  We got through that.  We can get through this, too.”

* * *

 

Sabine would never admit it if anyone had been around to ask her, but as night fell, she began to get nervous.  She was alone in the desert and who knew where the nearest krykna caverns were?  She’d already known she’d have to go back eventually, and now was as good a time as any.  As she drew closer to the campsite, she stopped for a moment, steeling herself before she walked down the slope.  She was ready this time.

She caught sight of Ezra and Rau seated by a lit-up power generator, talking.  Just past the radius of light cast by the generator, Kanan was kneeling on the ground, meditating.  Waiting.  On the ground in front of him was the darksaber.

“I owe you an apology,” he said as she approached.

“I can say the same,” Sabine said.

Kanan picked up the darksaber and stood up, holding the weapon out to her.  Sabine just stared down at it, not even reaching for it.

“Maybe I should practice more first,” she said.

“Take it,” Kanan said.  “It’s yours.”

Sabine reached out, wondering if Kanan noticed her second of hesitation before she took the darksaber from his hands.

“Ignite the blade,” Kanan said.

Sabine hit the switch to activate it and the black blade emerged from the hilt, somehow seeming to glow and absorb all light around it at the same time.  She stared at it, briefly mesmerized by the weapon that was so different from any lightsaber she’d ever seen in action before.

“It’s heavier than I thought,” she said.

“Energy constantly flows through the crystal,” Kanan said.  “You’re not fighting a simple blade as much as you are directing a current of power.  Your thoughts and actions become energy.  They flow through the crystal and become a part of the blade.”

Kanan removed his own lightsaber from his belt and ignited the blade.  Sabine felt a bubble of uncertainty rising in her chest and quickly shoved it down.  If her feelings became part of the blade, that wasn’t one she wanted right now.

“Block high,” Kanan said.  Sabine brought the saber up, catching Kanan’s blade on hers.  It was almost like the darksaber was drawn forward by a magnetic pull.  At the point where the two blades touched, the resistance felt strange, like the two currents of energy were mixing together.

“That sword is old,” Kanan said.  “Heavy, but powerful.  Respect its strength.”

Kanan disengaged and Sabine stumbled forward as she lost the resistance of his blade against hers, the heavy sword dragging her forward.

“Block low,” Kanan said, almost before Sabine regained her balance.  Sabine quickly blocked his strike and the next and the next as Kanan called out directions to her, letting her focus on gaining control of the lightsaber instead of watching for his movements.

“Let’s work on a series,” Kanan said.  “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Sabine said immediately.  She was finally sure that she was.

“Remember the forms Ezra taught you,” Kanan said.  “We’ll start slow.”

As Kanan slowly counted, Sabine moved carefully through the motions Ezra had taught her, blocking each strike from Kanan’s blade.  As they reached the end of the sequence, Kanan began it again, faster this time, and faster again.  As Sabine moved to block the final strike, Kanan hit his blade against hers with even more force, knocking her back onto the ground.

“You’re making it easy on me,” he said.  “Ready position.”

Sabine stood up, tightening her grip on the saber.  She’d show him easy.  As Kanan began to count again, even faster than before, Sabine blocked him, putting as much power behind her resistance as he did behind his attacks.  It was easier than before, as if her determination to prove Kanan wrong was aiding her in her defense.

“The blade feels lighter,” she said.

“You’re connecting with it,” Kanan said.  “It’s becoming a part of you.”

Kanan took a step forward, bringing his blade down in an arc toward her.  She raised her own weapon to block it, and deflected Kanan’s next blow easily.  She lunged forward, her blade cutting through the air toward Kanan’s side.  He pivoted and grabbed her arm, pushing her past him.

“You can’t rely solely on the blade,” he told her.

Sabine attacked again, and once again, Kanan caught her arm, using it as a turning point to let Sabine’s momentum carry her past him.

“You must use all your skills together,” he said.

Sabine took a breath, collecting herself before bringing the darksaber slashing toward Kanan’s chest.  He deflected the attack, sliding his blade along hers until it was close to the hilt and pushing, knocking the weapon from Sabine’s hands and sending it flying to the side.

“You’ll have to do better.”

Sabine activated the grappling cable on her vambrace, using it to pull the darksaber back to her hand.  She ignited the blade again and immediately launched into an attack, driving Kanan back a few steps as he blocked her first strike and dodged the next one.  As he caught her blade on his, he hooked his foot around her leg, pulling it out from under her and knocking her to the ground.  Her vambrace made contact with the darksaber’s blade as she fell and she let out a growl of pain and frustration as it sparked, burning her skin.

“You’re not fighting me,” Kanan said as he switched off his weapon.  “You’re fighting yourself and losing.”

Sabine grabbed hold of the darksaber and lunged to her feet, her fury pushing her forward.  Was Kanan _trying_ to make her angry?  She rushed at him, wildly swinging the blade.  Kanan didn’t even bother with his lightsaber, simply turning to the side and letting Sabine run right past him.  It only made Sabine angrier.  He didn’t even think she was worth defending himself.

“You’re not committed to this,” he said as she charged at him again and he dodged her attack easily.  “You should quit.”

“I don’t quit!” Sabine said, raising the blade above her head.  “I _never_ quit!”

She attacked again and again, her anger building each time Kanan just stepped aside, as if Sabine were more of an annoyance than a real opponent.  That anger only made her less precise and made it easier for Kanan to avoid her attacks, but she didn’t care.

“That’s not what it looks like,” Kanan said, catching her arm as she swung at him again and pushing her back.  “You did run, didn’t you?”

“No!” Sabine shouted as she lunged toward him.  He caught her arm again, holding on this time and pinning it against his side.

“But that’s what your people believe, isn’t it?” he asked.

Sabine twisted to the side, freeing her trapped arm, refusing to answer his question.  What did it matter what they believed?  She didn’t need them.  She’d done what she had to and she’d saved their lives.  The only reason they were even alive to think she was a traitor and a coward who’d run away was because of her.

She rushed Kanan again, bringing the darksaber slashing down through the air on his right side.  He just leaned the other way, letting the blade pass through the air beside him.

“You ran from the Empire,” he said, dodging Sabine’s next attack on his left.  “You ran from your family.”

“That’s a _lie!”_ Sabine shouted.  She slashed wildly in front of her and Kanan ignited his lightsaber, stopping her blade just before it reached his chest.

“So what’s the truth?” he asked.

“I left to save everyone!” Sabine said.  She pulled her blade away and swung it at Kanan again, the _crash_ of the two blades hitting each other echoing through the air around them.

“My mother!”  She swung at Kanan again, striking at his blade and driving him a step back.  “My father!”  As Kanan stepped back again, he tripped over a rock behind him, falling to the ground.  “My brother!”

She brought her blade down and Kanan quickly raised his again to block it.

“Everything I did was for family!” she shouted as Kanan got to his feet.  “For Mandalore!”

She kept attacking, driving Kanan back even as her ferocity waned, the energy draining from her with each word she spoke.

“I built weapons!” she said.  “Terrible weapons, and the Empire used them on Mandalore.  They controlled us through fear.  Fear of weapons _I_ helped create!  I helped enslave my people!”

She lunged at Kanan again, summoning the last scraps of energy she had left and throwing them behind the blow that Kanan just barely deflected.

“I wanted to stop it,” she said, the words pouring from her mouth, unable to be held in anymore.  “I _had_ to stop it.  I spoke out to save them.  To save _everyone!”_

She kicked wildly in front of her, her action driven by a twisting knot of anger and pain and desperation and _something_ she didn’t know or care what it was.  She struck Kanan’s chest and sent him falling back down the slope, his lightsaber dropping from his hand as he hit the ground.  Sabine leapt down after him, raising the darksaber above her head as she landed, standing over him.  Kanan held up a hand as if that could stop her if she wanted to hurt him now.

“But when I did,” she said, “my family didn’t stand by me.  They chose the Empire.  They left me.  Gave me no choice.”

She lowered the weapon and switched off the blade as tears stung at the corners of her eyes.  She sank to her knees, feeling like the weight of everything her family had done and everything _she’d_ done was dragging her downward and crushing her.

“The Empire wanted to destroy worlds,” she said as Kanan slowly pulled himself up off the ground.  “And they did.  They destroyed mine.”

“The Empire rules with fear,” Kanan said, carefully putting his hand on Sabine’s shoulder, as if he was afraid she’d break if he touched her.  “And not everyone can be as strong as you’ve been.”

Sabine took a deep, shaking breath, trying to calm herself down.  She hated crying, and she hated everyone seeing her like this.  But it didn’t work.  It was like a dam inside her had been broken and there was nothing to stop all of this from spilling out.  She turned toward Kanan and threw her arms around him.  He froze up for a second, surprised, then slid his arms around her.

“Where you go from here is up to you,” he said.  “But this family will stand by you no matter what you choose.”


End file.
